


Quid Pro Quo

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Some people in Atlas drive hard bargains - ones with which money doesn't pay. Neo had never intended to wind up on the giving end.
Kudos: 5





	Quid Pro Quo

Air in Atlas is thin and unenjoyable. Superficial like the people amongst it. Neo counts her breaths wisely, aware that with every one she takes the bitterly frozen air around her either flushes her nose sore and red, or rattles her front teeth to a sickening ache. Cinder, who strides hastily in front of her along the electrically heated pavement, finds no problems in her unfeeling state, lent either to her instinctive propensity with flame, or, Neo hopes more, the horrific growth that has crept up her arm and incurs upon her torso.

Where everything _important_ is stored.

If she could have it her own way, Neo would not wish to be out at this time of night in these harrowing temperatures, but what Cinder insists goes, and Neo needs to weather the storm of obeying her if she wishes to come out the other side. Cinder had told her she had a contact - or at the least a _passing word_ , a rumor - that would be of 'invaluable help'.

Neo suspects this 'help' is to let them become more familiar with the vastness of Atlas, given their equal struggle to find their apartment when they had first arrived, and to prepare for their inevitable incursions upon General Ironwood's castle into the skies.

Certainly nothing glamorous.

With a scrunch of dissipating, sleeted snow, Cinder slows her advance along the street and turns on a heel. She reaches for the handle of a dark door, sat beneath a nondescript overhang, and pushes it open briskly with a rush of warm air and the hum of interior atmosphere. Neo follows, ducking into the warmer inside and swinging the door closed behind her as she takes in the sights around her.

The interior of the venue seems a mock-up of the ones in Mantle below, exuding a similar make-do and rustic tone like the ones that Neo was more familiar with. Whether it was a deliberate stylistic choice, or simply a burden of budget, she could not tell.

But in a place like Atlas, considerations of budget seemed unlikely.

Cinder greets no-one - and understandably no-one greets Cinder - as she strides past the opening zone of the front door and through the conversational crowd of contrastingly ornate tables and chairs. She continues to a door on the far side, adjacent to many others (Neo presumes them to be private lounges), and then turns the handle harshly as they transition into a smaller, quieter room.

There are a smaller range of seating areas, equally intricate and showy, but there sits only one man here, with a medium mess of hair and an unfastened collar. His eyes meet Cinder's sharply, lips curling slightly, and then his eyes fall to Neo. His lips flatten, though his brow folds and the light of his eyes twists unsettlingly as he examines her. Neo does not maintain the eye contact, and she looks to Cinder as she serves Neo a flat glance alongside a dismissive gesture.

"Stay there."

Neo obeys, as humanely as she can, and leans herself against the wall adjacent to the now closed door. The man mutters something incoherent yet visibly cocky as Cinder approaches him, disheveled but sat pretentiously, settling down his brass-coloured drink next to a knife, a pen, and a pile of miscellaneous scraps.

His lips move fast, orchestrating the conversation deftly. Neo keeps watching, thinking it will go on forever as they exchange their thoughts, but soon a pause breaks between the two, to which the man grins and Cinder pivots her head. Both are directed at Neo, who narrows her eyes unsurely as the air tenses about her. Cinder quickly turns back, mutters something indiscernible, and then stands aside.

"C'mere." He seems a false pretender to the elaborate crowd of Atlas, his accent inflected and brash. A finger wags at Neo, accompanied by a clogged sniff, and catching the impatient glare Cinder sends her way, she concedes and steps closer. He smiles. "You think you could do me a little favour?"

Neo considers what he could mean. He seems untroubled, lax, so she guesses that it's nothing in the realm of eliminating danger or reassuring safety, and the rich aroma of his drink that diffuses out amongst the three of them would indicate he has no concerns of money.

Her guesses are fruitless, and when the man slides a hand downwards and pinches at the metallic zip of his trousers, edging it down slightly, Neo realises this was beyond any sort of her sane expectations.

"You've got a pretty mouth." Neo doesn't like the sound of this. "You want to show me how you use it?"

It's the successive wink that convinces Neo it can't be anything but. She feels as though she should be distraught at first - then dismissive with the moral upper-hand that she wasn't here to be prostituted off. But, as her mind races, she remembers the looks the two of them had given her and that Cinder must have been compliant with this when he had suggested it.

She simply serves him a look of disgust, and looks to Cinder instead to wry some sort of reassurance from her or to persuade her that there were other ways to go about this.

Not that persuasion was a strong suit of Neo's, though.

But to her dismay, Cinder merely appears indifferent, and glances at her unfeelingly. "He's ex-military." She seemed to be unwilling to place the concept of dignity over the promise of precious information, tone whispered. "Just do it." Cinder strides away at that, and soon enough the only door to the room creaks open and then shakes as it's swung closed.

As a short silence gathers, a whirr of unzipping metal slashes through it and Neo's stomach tumbles. She looks back to their contact, who is simply smug and expecting in his seat as his fingers fiddle with his zip, and Neo notices a bulge of material within that makes her skin shiver.

"C'mon." The man, holder of information Neo could not afford to turn down, sniffs again, his right hand fiddling at the lowered zip of his pants. "Only has to be a quick one - nothin' fancy."

There wasn't a modicum of concern running through Neo's mind regarding how fancy she could be with this - she wasn't here to impress, it was more so the act itself that unsettled her.

Neo doesn't say anything, expectedly, but her self-asserted client takes the absence of any signalled refusal as confirmation and takes to his underwear. He finds the elastic of the garment, clenching it with his fingers, and then sits up momentarily as he pulls them down slightly to sit about his thighs and reveal his awaiting member.

The thing is already at half-mast, subtly veined and with growing definition, now resting along the front of his open trousers as it pulsates hotly under the humid air of the room.

Neo swallows her pride. Weather the storm. It was what she needed to do, and this... this was just a step closer to appeasing Cinder until she was out of this whole game.

Her dignity is reserved for another time, and reluctantly, Neo lowers herself to the ground carefully as she brings herself to kneel in-front of him. The floor is polished and heated like the pavement outside, but stained slightly with dried alcohol and the scent down here of a popular liquor house is thicker. She eventually settles with her head close to the widened gap between his knees, and soon enough he's pulled himself fully from his pants and is holding it suggestively towards Neo.

She shifts forward slightly, hit with a second scent of arousal as she comes within inches of it, and then takes his throbbing length into the grip of a uncertain hand. The flesh is searing to the touch, twitching under her cooler hand, and the foreskin about the head recedes slowly as it grows in her hold. Neo wishes not to stare, and she supposes time is of the essence here, so she readies herself and presses the beginnings of her plump lips to his tip.

Neo pushes herself forward, engulfing his member slowly inside her mouth as she draws out a sultry, slow glare that burrows into the man, tongue curling at his undershaft as her lips roll along it. He groans blissfully, hands settling to armrests as Neo settles about half-a-ways down the shaft and adjusts to the circumstance. A drip leaves him, salty and thin, which rolls along her tongue and dissipates into her saliva, but she ignores the sensation and focuses on her work. She teases him further, pulling her lips to sit about the ridge of the head and tighten momentarily, and then plunging back down tenderly with a deliberate yet delicate sigh.

He shivers in her mouth, length growing with hot throbs, and Neo can hear his breaths whistling in response to the tracings of nail she curls into the base of his shaft. Her tongue then curls to the side, and presses his member to the left as his tip bulges against the warm softness of the inside of her cheek. That makes him groan again, coarsely, his own nails scratching at the wooden armrests of his ornate chair.

Neo doesn't let up, and brings her fingers to wrap around the sensitive area she had traced at with a nail, squeezing and wringing at it as she bobs her head back and forth slowly. The man shivers again, but in the moment in which she tries to disappear into the swing of things and contemplate that she'll need to catch a full breath soon, given the rate of her heart, she doesn't notice the strained slur that whispers from the man's lips and the shifting of a previously clenched fist.

The hand launches as he throbs madly inside of her mouth, tip brushing against her cheek again, and Neo is suddenly wrenched from her thoughts as he thrusts his hips forward and grips at the back of her head, taking a cruel amount of hair in his hand and holding Neo still.

"Fuck!"

Neo yelps with horror as he does it, hands clambering outwards to try and push at his thighs and against the grip he has on her, but her efforts quiver under shock as his cock throbs a final time and a thick rope of warmth scatters inside her mouth and impacts the back of her throat.

It sends dread through her, the warm shots of fluid repeated and unceasing as the man rocks his hips slowly and holds Neo in place, throat bubbling with breathless pleasure as Neo herself tries her hardest not to swallow any of it under a mishap of her gag reflex. She hadn't been expecting this so soon, and she certainly hadn't planned on having it this way. She smacks at his thigh again, kicking a leg as her breath shortens, but his grip holds as his shots continue with weakening force.

He won't let go and the thickness filling her mouth is putrid. Neo grows desperate as she fights at him with a wrestled struggle, but, thankfully, as the accumulation ends and Neo is left with a heaped mouthful, he finally relinquishes his grip on her hair and she falls backwards under the inertia of her struggle, impacting the coffee table beside her harshly as she crashes to the ground.

Her mouth opens immediately with a disjointed retch, tears bubbling and throat clenching and spasming with gag as the man's ejaculate strings in between her lips. It coats her tongue, settling behind her teeth and across the floor of her mouth as it thickens into her saliva and turns it heavy.

The scent is enough to threaten vomit, bringing her to gag again as a drop edges closer to dripping down her throat, mouth now a réchauffé of fluid and heat. Neo steels herself, clenching at the wooden floor and leaning into the legs of the coffee table as she retches and spits out as much as she can.

It pools and strings out of her mouth slowly, agonisingly so, giving her tear-glistened eyes plenty of time to watch it drop from her pursed lips. She gives it another try, forcefully pushing her tongue to her lips and rolling her throat. Most of the translucent mass eventually gives, falling to the ground and splaying out in a gross puddle under the impact.

The taste yet remains though, rancid and thick. The man, post-coital and smug, merely breathes a laugh at her predicament as he tucks himself in and zips back up. It's short and splintered, but it sends fury through Neo and as her mind bristles with adrenaline she recalls his arsenal atop the coffee table.

She takes no time in reasserting the balance between the two of them, reaching with an arm and snatching up the knife she had spotted earlier as she clambers to her feet shakily. She flips the blade around in her hand, jabbing it threateningly at him as the roughed metal glistens under the light.

She would dash him for how he treated her.

Her speed cuts his laugh short, bringing his hands up to gesture surrender at an equal speed, but his smugness persists and he doesn't seem very concerned.

"Relax, little miss!" He presses his teeth together under Neo's glare through his grin, eyeing the left hand that she brings up to wipe at her lips. "You won't get info if you kill me now, will you?"

Neo pauses for a moment under the question, motions pausing as she realises she is held from anything beyond pointing and glaring.

"You, uh..." He smirks, mirth unsettling Neo again. "'Got a little..."

His surrender falls as he points to beneath his own thin, chapped lips, and as Neo reaches to her own, a warm drip curls down them and she shivers under the sensation. Her hand hastens, and she wipes irritatedly at her mouth.

A final laugh sounds, but with the woman in-front of him furious and armed, he chooses not to take it any further and snatches up his own weapon from the table - a shaky, drying pen, and a crumpled, faded post-it note.

He smacks the paper to the table, giving Neo a final, cautionary glance before flattening it momentarily and then scribbling at it hurriedly. Neo tries to steal a look at the details, but his writing arm blocks it and she doubts she could catch anything discernible given the pace at which he writes.

The pen soon drops from his fingers, clattering to the wooden surface, and he folds the paper once over as he hands it to Neo, who leans forward only momentarily and snatches it from him with her left hand.

"Give that to your boss." His eyes widen with emphasis. "For her eyes only, you hear?"

Neo nods, and with their exchange at an end, she throws the knife to the floor and turns for the door hurriedly.

* * *

"Oh, Neo. You are shameless." The words that leave Cinder's lips are rhythmic and malignant. "So very shameless." The crumpled, jaundiced note that she holds crinkles between her fingers as she folds it further. "But useful, and I must commend you for committing so dearly to our cause."

Neo has no words for her, none in her mind. All she seeks is a shower and the grace of induced amnesia.

"We can go now." Cinder smiles. Sickly. "If you wish."

Neo thinks it insulting, how comfortable Cinder is to mock her.

_'If you wish.'_

She did wish. All she gives her is a nod and, seeing Cinder's eyes cool, she leads the two of them out of the place and towards the door herself.

These people were more than just superficial, and they were colder than the air.


End file.
